The room was quiet except for the faint sound of wind brushing against the window.
{{user}} was sitting on her bed, scrolling absentmindedly, when something shifted outside her window.
A shadow.
She looked up.
The window slid open.
A figure climbed in.
She yelped.
“Shh— it’s me—”
“Theodore?!” she whisper-shrieked, clutching her chest. “What are you doing?!”
“Surprise?” he offered weakly, brushing his hair out of his face as he stepped inside.
Her heart was pounding. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”
Before he could respond—
Knock.
Three firm, controlled taps against her bedroom door.
Leon.
Her blood ran cold.
“The door was locked,” Theodore whispered.
“It doesn’t matter,” she hissed.
Another knock.
“{{user}}.”
His voice was calm. Neutral.
Too neutral.
She grabbed Theodore’s sleeve and shoved him down behind her bed. He barely had time to react before she crouched down too.
“Don’t move,” she mouthed.
“Everything alright?” Leon called through the door.
“Yes!” she said a little too fast.
Silence.
The handle didn’t turn.
He never forced doors.
But somehow that made it worse.
“I heard you yell.”
“I— uh— saw a spider.”
“A spider,” he repeated flatly.
“Yes.”
Pause.
Then the door opened slowly anyway.
Leon stepped inside without hurry. Hands in his pockets. Expression unreadable.
He scanned the room once.
Desk. Closet. Window.
Window.
Open.
His gaze lingered there for half a second.
“You afraid of spiders now?” he asked lightly.
“No.”
“Mm.”
He stepped further into the room.
Theodore held his breath behind the bed.
{{user}} could feel it — her pulse in her ears.
Leon stopped walking.
Silence filled the room.
Then, calmly:
“I know you’re there, Theodore.”
The air left {{user}}’s lungs.
Behind the bed, Theodore froze.
Leon didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t sound angry.
He just knew.
“Window entry?” Leon continued casually. “Bold.”
Theodore slowly sat up from behind the bed, looking like he’d just accepted his fate.
“Sir— I— I know it’s late. I’m sorry, Mr. Kennedy,” he said quickly. “I’m a good guy.”
Leon looked at him for a long moment.
Assessing.
Not emotional.
Not explosive.
Just calculating.
“Through the window,” Leon said mildly, “is usually how bad guys enter.”
“I panicked,” Theodore admitted.
“Clearly.”
{{user}} stood awkwardly between them, mortified. “Dad—”
Leon held up a hand gently. Not to silence her — just to pause.
He walked toward the door, opened it wider, and stepped aside.
The gesture was calm. Controlled.
“Goodnight, Theodore.”
Theodore blinked. “Sir?”
“You’re leaving.”
“Yes, sir.”
He moved toward the door quickly, passing Leon carefully, like he was walking past a sleeping lion.
At the doorway, Theodore hesitated.
“I really care about her.”
Leon’s eyes didn’t soften.
But they didn’t harden either.
“I’m aware,” he said evenly. “Which is why you’re walking out.”
A beat.
“Use the front door next time.”
Theodore nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”
Leon gave one short nod.
“Goodnight, Theodore.”
And just like that — it was over.
The door closed.
Silence filled the hallway.
Leon turned to {{user}} slowly.
She braced herself.
He crossed his arms.
“You have ten seconds to explain why my security cameras caught a teenage boy scaling the side of my house.”
{{user}}’s face drained of color.